


Colour Me Black

by BD Campbell (18GryffindorBrat)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 20:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18GryffindorBrat/pseuds/BD%20Campbell
Summary: It's hard being the daughter of Sirius Black, especially when you don't know you're the daughter of Sirius Black. Shiloh Parker has never met her father,  The only thing she knows about him is that he's in prison. Her mother refuses to talk about him, and Shiloh has learned better then to ask.A series of strange events start to unfold. First, a strange black dog starts appearing out of nowhere and follows Shiloh around wherever she goes  Then, for her tenth birthday, she receives a package postmarked Azkaban. Her mother is reluctant for Shiloh to have the package, but allows Shiloh to open it. Inside is a set of paint brushes.Shiloh starts to paint pictures of a mysterious castle and of a strange man that she's been seeing in her dreams at night.Then on her eleventh birthday, Shiloh receives a visit from Professor Mcgonagall with a letter inviting her to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.A birthday present from the father she has never known and acceptance into Hogwarts sends Shiloh on an adventure beyond her wildest dreams.





	1. Copyright and Prologue

© 2017 Colour Me Black by BD Campbell

© 2017 on AO3

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author.

All Harry Potter characters belong to the wonderful JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I just own my original characters and the plot.

    ________________________________________________________________

 

Shiloh held onto her mother's hand as they crossed the parking lot. In the other hand, she held on tightly to a little stuffed black dog. Once they had reached the car, Morgan picked her daughter up and put her in her car seat. In the process of being buckled in, Shiloh never once loosened her grip on her prized possession.

"Buckle Snuffles up too, Mummy!" The little girl cried. 

"Snuffles doesn't need bucked in. As long as you keep holding him tight like that, he'll be safe," Morgan told her with a smile as she tightened Shiloh's seatbelt one last time.

But what if something bad happens, and Snuffles gets hurt," Shiloh asked worriedly.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen," Morgan assured her. He won't get hurt, honey, "Your arms are as safe as any seatbelt could ever be, OK?"

Looking unconvinced, Shiloh answered skeptically, and if was possible, she squeezed the stuffed dog even tighter.

Morgan kissed her daughter on the cheek. Shiloh held up Snuffles and said, "Snuffles wants a kiss too, Mummy."

Morgan obliged her little girl's request and kissed snuffles on his love-worn cheek. Satisfied, Shiloh settled back in her seat, and Morgan closed the door.

For a moment, Morgan leaned against the car door and allowed a single tear to roll down her cheek unchecked. 

Oh, baby girl, I hope you're always so sweet and innocent.

She sighed and wiped the rest of the tears that threatened to escape from her eyes before putting the grocery bags into the back of the car. 

As they were driving home, Shiloh blew hot air on her window and traced smiley faces with her finger onto the fogged-up glass. She was just about to add some hair to her latest creation when her mother caught a glimpse of what she was doing in the rearview mirror.

Morgan said, "Shiloh, how many times have I told you not to draw on the glass?"

Shiloh guiltily looked up from what she doing and answered, "A Kajillion times!"

Morgan tried her best to keep a straight face at her daughter's over-exaggeration. Choking back her laughter, she answered, "At least that many. When you draw on the window, you leave streak marks on the glass and that makes the window-"

"Dirty." Shiloh finished for her with a sigh.

"That's right." Morgan answered. She handed a pack of tissues back to Shiloh saying, wipe your drawings off the window, please.

"But I have to draw!" Shiloh exclaimed.

"You can draw when we get get home, Morgan promised. Now, please clean off the window."

"All right," Shiloh said. She sighed again to let her mother know how unhappy she was to erase her drawings.

Just as Shiloh was clearing away the last of the smiley faces, she gasped, "Look out, Mummy! Don't hit Snuffles!"

"Mummy's not gonna hit snuff- Oh my go-!" Morgan's voice trailed off and her eyes widened when she saw a big black dog sitting in the middle of the road. She swerved to the side to avoid hitting the giant beast. The force of the swerve propelled both Shiloh and Morgan forward in their seats. Morgan slammed the break petal all the way down on the floor, and managed to get the car to stop before it went into the ditch.

Once the car came to a complete stop, Morgan turned around and asked, "Shiloh, are you OK?" 

The little girl nodded silently, looking a little shaken up, and clutched Snuffles to her chest.

Seeing that Shiloh was all right, Morgan threw off her seat belt,  jumped out of the car, and ran towards Snuffles real-life twin. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You could've gotten us both killed, you git!" She waved her hands wildly yelling, "Go away! Shoo!" hoping the dog would run off, but instead he just there and in answer to her yelling, he cocked his head to the side and had the audacity to wink at her. 

This only infuriated Morgan further. She growled and stormed back towards the car, the dog hot on her heels.

When she heard the sound of padding feet behind her, she spun around and screamed, "YOU STAY FROM ME!" The dog stopped in his tracks, sat down and stared after Morgan as she ran the rest of the way back to the car, tears flowing freely down her face. 

Morgan got back in the car and slammed the door, waking Shiloh who had just fallen asleep in the backseat.

"Are you OK, Mummy?" Shiloh asked. 

Morgan took a moment to compose herself before answering. She took a deep breath and said, "I'm just fine, Sweetheart!" 

"You were gone a long time. What were you doing?" She asked.

"I was just making sure Snuffles was all right," Morgan lied.

"Mummy?"

"Yes."

"Can we take Snuffles home with us?"

"NO!" Morgan said a little too loudly.

"Why not?" Shiloh pouted.

Morgan lowered her volume and replied, "Because you already have a Snuffles. You don't need another one. Don't you think Snuffles would get jealous?" Morgan asked.

"No," Shiloh answered. I talked to him and he said he would be OK with it," she said seriously.

"Well, you tell Snuffles that the real Snuffles probably already has a home. His owner would miss him if we took him home with us." 

"Oh." Shiloh was quiet for a few minutes before asking, "Mummy, can we get a dog?"

Morgan sighed and said, "Maybe when you're older we can think about getting a dog."

"Mummy?" Shiloh asked again.

"Yes."

"I'm older." Morgan smiled at her daughter's persistence. She put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road. As they drove away, the black dog stared after them with something much like sorrow in his eyes. When the car disappeared over the hill, Snuffles walked into the woods and disappeared.


	2. 1

Five years later

 

Shiloh braced herself against the brick wall, sketchbook in hand putting the finishing touches on a portrait of Miranda Perkins. She had just completed shading in Miranda's beaked nose and was moving on to the squinty eyes when a shadow blocked her sunlight, and she looked up to see the real Miranda Perkins glowering down at her. 

Shiloh tried to flip the sketchpad shut before Miranda could see what she'd drawn, but before she could, Miranda snatched the pad out of her hand and held it up above her head out of Shiloh's reach.

"I don't even know why you waste all your time drawing. It's not like you'll ever be any good." 

Shiloh jumped and tried to grab the sketchpad out of Miranda's meaty fist, but she just laughed at Shiloh's futile attempts and sidestepped away from her. 

It's not like you're being alive and breathing is doing anyone any good," Shiloh muttered under her breath. 

"What was that?" Miranda asked, tilting her head and holding a hand up to her ear as if struggling to hear. 

Shiloh smiled sweetly and making sure to enunciate every word, she answered, "I said I'd love to carve your face into a block of wood. A face as lovely as yours deserves to be remembered and admired for all time." Shiloh stopped jumping and held her hand out, "Now may I have my book back, please?"

"Hmm. Let me think about it..." Miranda appeared to be deep in thought. (Shiloh just thought she just looked constipated) "No," Miranda said. She tossed the book to her second-in-command Prudence, who to Shiloh's horror, instead of catching it, allowed it to fall in the puddle of leftover rainwater at her feet. As if having a soaked sketchbook wasn't bad enough, when the book landed, it flopped open to the unflattering sketch of Miranda for everyone to see.

Time seemed to move in slow motion. Shiloh ran towards the puddle, reached down to pick up her sketchpad, but before she could grab it, Miranda swooped in and scooped it up and flipped the pad around to face her. 

Shiloh held her breath and watched as Miranda examined the drawing. She silently hoped that Miranda didn't have enough brains to realize the drawing was of her, but no such luck. 

As a look of recognition flashed across Miranda's face, Shiloh tried to disappear in the gathering crowd of students. But as she was trying to make her getaway, Miranda's shrill voice stopped her in her tracks. 

"PARKER!" Miranda pushed past several students to get to Shiloh. She grabbed the back of Shiloh's shirt collar and jerked her around to look up into Miranda's beet-red face.

"What is this?" Miranda barked waving the offensive sketch in front of Shiloh's face. 

"Wow! Miranda, I think it's time you got your eyes checked. Can't even recognize your own portrait." Shiloh shook her head in mock sorrow. "Such a shame, really. And after all the time I spent working on it."

"That's not me! That's an ugly old hag!" Miranda yelled.

"A hag," Shiloh repeated. "Why Miranda, I was only trying to highlight your natural beauty," Shiloh said innocently.

"I was only trying to highlight your natural beauty," Miranda mimicked. "Well, we'll see how beautiful you are when I rearrange your face!" Miranda balled her hand into a fist and pulled it back, preparing to strike. Shiloh closed her eyes and braced herself for the incoming blow, a blow that never came.

Shiloh opened her eyes when she heard Prudence gasp and say, "Miranda what happened to your face?"

"What do you mean what's happened to my face?" Miranda asked a hint of panic in her voice. 

"Nothing." Prudence looked away and coughed trying to hide the laughter that was trying to escape. 

Miranda put her hands on her cheeks and gasped when she felt giant warts that had popped up all over her face.

"Prudey, hand me your mirror," Miranda ordered. Prudence's fat fingers fumbled with the snaps on her purse before managing to open it and pulled out a rhinestone-encrusted mirror. 

"I don't that's such a good idea, Prudence said hesitantly.

"Give it to me, Miranda demanded impatiently.

With a sigh, Prudence reluctantly handed the mirror over to her, and Miranda held it up to look into it. 

"It's really not-"Prudence tried to tell her again.

"AAiiee!" Miranda shrieked at the hideous face staring back at her. 

Shiloh couldn't believe her eyes. What she was looking at was better than any picture of Miranda than she'd ever drawn: her nose was long and hook-like, in the place of her usually thick blonde waves were limp and stringy strands clinging to the sides of her oily face; a face that had broken out in giant hairy warts.

Shiloh tried but failed to hold back her laughter at Miranda's horrified expression. And she wasn't the only one laughing. The other kids standing around the schoolyard were pointing and laughing at Miranda's witchy transformation. 

"PARKER! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" Miranda screamed.

"I didn't do anything!" Shiloh protested amidst snorts of laughter. Could you please keep your voice down? I don't wanna lose my hearing before I turn ten."

"Why, you little witch!" Miranda threw a punch at Shiloh who managed to jump to the side just in time.

"Stand still!" Miranda hissed as she took another swing.

"I don't think so, Shiloh answered as she ducked. She managed to avoid being hit, but Clark Peterson wasn't so lucky. Miranda's fist connected with Clark's nose and blood spurted onto Miranda's white denim jacket.

"EWWW!" Look what you've done!" Miranda cried. You've ruined my designer jacket." 

"I hear blood is what all the witches are wearing this year," Shiloh quipped.

The vein in the middle of Miranda's forehead throbbed with anger. Her gaze swung between Shiloh and Clark as if she wasn't quite sure of who to punch next. She was saved from having to make a decision when a voice interrupted asking, "What's going on over here?"

Shiloh looked over to see Mrs. Lambertson coming towards them, hands on her hips with a severe expression on her face. 

Nothing's going on here, Miranda answered with an angelic smile.

"Really? Mrs. Lambertson's eyebrow rose. Well then, if nothing's going on, why is blood flowing from Clark's nose like a water fountain?" She asked.

"No reason," Miranda lied. He must have chronic nosebleeds or something."

"Or something," Mrs. Lambertson repeated. "Well, Miss Perkins, if you won't tell me what happened, perhaps Miss Parker will." She turned to look at Shiloh. "Miss Parker, do you care to explain what all the commotion is about?"

"Not particularly," Shiloh answered.

"Try to explain anyway," Mrs. Lambertson said. "Unless that is if you want to get the principal involved?"

"No ma'am," answered with a shake of her head.

"OK then. What happened?"

"I was just minding my own business drawing when Miranda came over and swiped my sketchpad. I tried to get it back, but she threw it and it landed in a puddle."

"So Clark's got a bloody nose because of a soggy sketchbook?" Mrs. Lambertson asked. "I'm not quite sure I'm following this line of logic."

"Miranda meant to punch me. I ducked and she hit Clark instead," Shiloh explained.

And why would Miss Perkins want to hit you?" Mrs. Lambertson asked.

Before Shiloh could answer, Miranda said, "She drew a nasty picture of me, Mrs. Lambertson."

"I believe I was asking Miss Parker a question, not you," Mrs. Lambertson stated firmly. "Miss Parker, did you draw an unflattering picture of Miss Perkins?"

"I did," Shiloh admitted.

May I see it?" Mrs. Lambertson held out her hand and Miranda handed over the sketchpad. 

Mrs. Lambertson took it and flipped through the pages until she came to the picture in question. She gazed at it for a moment before looking up at Shiloh and asked, you drew this?"

Shiloh nodded.

"Mrs. Lambertson closed the sketchpad and tucked it under her arm. She looked over at Miranda and said, "Miss Perkins, Please escort Mr. Peterson to the nurse's office."

Miranda looked like she was going to argue but then thought better of it. She went over to Clark, grabbed hold of his arm and started dragging towards the school entrance. 

"Please don't drag Mr. Peterson like a sack of potatoes, Miss Perkins, Mrs. Lambertson said. Oh, and Miranda, while you're there ask Nurse Walker if she can give you some ointment for your complexion."

Shiloh snickered as Miranda and Clark walked by. Miranda glared at her over her shoulder. After they had walked away, Mrs. Lambertson turned to Shiloh and said, "Now as for you, I'd like to see you in my office. I have something I want to discuss with you."

Shiloh gulped nervously and followed Mrs. Lambertson inside.


	3. 2

Shiloh followed Mrs. Lambertson into her office and took a seat in the chair closest to the wall. She was surprised and a little nervous when Mrs. Lambertson shook her head and gestured for Shiloh to have a seat on the loveseat instead.

Seeing the girl's hesitation to switch seats, Mrs. Lambertson said, "Don't worry Miss Parker, I gave up the habit of biting children a long time ago."

Shiloh relaxed, released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and went over to sit on the loveseat. 

Mrs. Lambertson took two teacups out from the cupboard hanging on the wall behind her and set them on the desk. She grabbed the teakettle off the hotplate and poured water and placed a teabag into each of the cups before coming over to sit beside Shiloh. Mrs. Lambertson handed Shiloh her tea and then took a careful sip of her own.

A few moments silence passed between them before Shiloh got up enough nerve to ask, "Why did you want to see me?"

"Well it wasn't so that I could poison you with my tea," Mrs. Lambertson said with a small smile.

Shiloh took a sip of her tea then asked, "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"Should you be?" Mrs. Lambertson asked.

"You saw what happened, didn't you?"

"Not all of it," Mrs. Lambertson answered. I just managed to catch the final act of your little show. Do you mind catching me up on the first one?" 

"I told you," Shiloh answered, "I was drawing when for no reason, Miranda came up and snatched my sketchpad away from me."

"Things don't ever happen 'for no reason' Mrs. Lambertson said. There has to be some sort of logical explanation why Miss Perkins likes to torment you."

"Miranda doesn't need a good reason to be evil; she just is," Shiloh answered.

"I highly doubt that," Mrs. Lambertson said. People usually aren't evil just for the sake of being evil. Most of the time there is an underlying reason driving the kind of choices a person makes. Maybe Miss Perkins doesn't completely understand herself why she enjoys making you miserable."

"I doubt that," Shiloh huffed.

Mrs. Lambertson ignored her and continued, "Maybe the reason Miss Perkins acts the way she does is because she's hurting, and she doesn't know how to express that pain in any other way except negatively. 

"That doesn't make what she does right!" Shiloh protested.

"I'm not saying it is," Mrs. Lambertson said kindly. "Believe me, Miss Parker; the proper measures will be taken to ensure that Miss Perkins will know that bullying is not OK."

A smile slowly spread across Shiloh's face at this news.

"What I am saying," Mrs. Lambertson continued, "is don't be so quick to pass final judgment on someone. You never know what kind of hell that other person may be going through."

For a time, Mrs. Lambertson and Shiloh drank their tea in companionable silence. When Mrs. Lambertson was done with her teacup, she set it aside, picked up Shiloh's sketchpad and began flipping through it. 

Shiloh gulped down the last of her tea and waited nervously for Mrs. Lambertson's reaction to her drawings.

"You're quite talented, Miss Parker," Mrs. Lambertson said, finally looking up from the sketchpad. "You have the makings of a fine artist."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Shiloh said, trying hard not to blush at the compliment. "They're not much. Just doodles really."

Mrs. Lambertson nodded then placing the sketchpad in front of Shiloh she asked, "Do you want to explain your inspiration for this 'doodle' in particular?"

"Not really," Shiloh answered.

"Too bad," Mrs. Lambertson answered as she reached for the telephone on her desk. I'm always been intrigued by the stories behind an artist's masterpieces. But if you don't want to tell me, I'm sure Mr. Hastings would be just as interested in what you have to say." Mrs. Lambertson picked up the receiver.

"I draw people how I really see them," Shiloh blurted out. I draw their true selves; what they may not want people to see."

"I see." Mrs. Lambertson put the phone down. "This all goes back to what I was saying earlier, Miss Parker. About passing judgment on people without fully knowing or understanding what that person's circumstances are. If you do that, you may find yourself missing out on something important later in life."

"I don't know what's gonna be so important in my life that I might miss out on it," Shiloh grumbled.

"You never know what opportunities might be headed your way, Miss Parker," Mrs. Lambertson said. "Speaking of opportunities, the reason I asked you in here in the first place was to ask you if you would like to join my art class." 

Shiloh's mouth gaped open. She'd been expecting detention, not an invitation to join Mrs. Lambertson's gifted art class. "I don't know if I'm any good to be in your class," she said.

"Don't put yourself down like that. You have great potential, and I'd like to be the one to help you cultivate that potential." 

"Thank you," Shiloh said. "I'll have to ask my mum though."

"Of course," Mrs. Lambertson nodded. She handed Shiloh's sketchpad back to her and said, "I'll assume she gave you permission if I see you in class tomorrow."

"Thanks for the tea Mrs. Lambertson," Shiloh said as she got up and started walking towards the door. 

"You're welcome," Mrs. Lambertson replied. Oh, and Shiloh...

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to think about what we talked about. People aren't always what they seem."

"Whatever you say, Mrs. L," Shiloh tossed over her shoulder as she headed out the door. "Whatever you say."

Mrs. Lambertson shut the door behind Shiloh, shaking her head.

I don't think that girl was listening to a single word I said. Well, only time will tell. Mrs. Lambertson went to sit at her desk to begin grading papers. Only time will tell.


End file.
